Sons of the Wilderness: 1849
by MissMilkMaid
Summary: After running away from Howlett Manner, Victor and James found a life working in a Canadian mine. James becomes popular and well liked in the community, stretching his friendship with Victor and sparking a fight that changes everything.
1. Chapter 1

******Sons of the Wilderness: 1849**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Wolverine or Sabertooth, nor do I own the Marvel Universe or Canada. All rights belong to Marvel and Fox.

**AN: **This is the first story I wrote for my Sons of the Wilderness series. I plan to have the series cover Victor and Logan's life throughout the 19th century. I'm a sucker for that era and I might as well take advantage of my history degree wherever I can. Mainly, I just want to fill in that time we got a glimpse of during the Origins credits, (which was the high point of the movie in my opinion) and explore the brother relationship between Wolverine and Sabertooth, as they grow up. - This is not slash, only brothers.

**The prequel "Sons of the Wilderness: 1845"** is also complete and you can find it on my profile. You can read the stories in whatever order you want. 1845 takes place first, but 1849 was written first and probably introduces the idea of the series better.

**Rated T** for language, violence, gore, and gruesome images, because, unlike Fox, I try to be more realistic about what slashing/clawing weapons really do. People do actually bleed, you know. However, I give warnings before every chapter with content, so you'll know when to expect it.

**Summery:** After running away from Howlette Manner, Victor and James found a life working in a British Columbian mine. As James becomes popular and well liked in the community, his friendship with Victor stretches, sparking a fight that changes everything.

Chapter One: _**He-Who-Runs-With-Wolves**_

* * *

The sun had already disappeared behind the snowy peeks of the Canadian Rockies, casting the cold world into shadow. Darkness came early during the winter months and with it a cold that only those native to the country could truly endure.

Amid this wilderness of snow, stone and bitter winds, a lone mining camp scared the side of a steep mountain, a nasty gash in the skin of trees and stone. The mine had already been deserted. The few log cabins surrounding it sent up thick columns of white smoke through their chimneys and buffalo skins were pinned over the windows, trapping the precious heat and light. The whole valley smelled of pine smoke and animal skins. Sensitive noses could also smell the sweat of men and mules. Food, iron, coal, lamp oil: the smells of this little spec of gruff civilization in the sprawling Canadian wildness.

Beyond the small camp, snowy pine forest and mountain slopes stretched endlessly on, still, undefiled and trapped in the silence of winter. Frozen streams cut like whips through the valleys and bald caps of silver ice crowned the peeks. Overhead, stars were piecing through the dim twilight and the last rosy glow was fading in the clouded horizon.

Only two figures, playing with oblivious and rambunctious energy, defied Winter's domain. A teenage boy and a young she-wolf wrestled in the powdery snow near a clearing of pine stumps. They were some distance from the camp, beside the slick road used to sled logs to the river, and both were growling and snarling like beasts.

"Grurrawh!" With a mighty effort, the boy kicked the wolf from him, the stick lathered in cold drool still clasped in his hands. "I got it now!" he laughed then rolled to avoid a snarling lunge from the wolf. Scrambling to his feet, the teenager held the stick high in the air like torch or a trophy. He was short, but powerful muscles were obvious under the tight buckskin of his coat and a thin black scruff was already shadowing his face. At fifteen he was already strong as men twice his size.

The wolf leap and twisted in the air with anxious happy barks, never taking her eyes off the stick in the boy's hand.

"You want it Mika? You want it?" teased the boy in an excited voice, sending the wolf into an even higher frenzy of frantic leaps. "Fetch!"

Swinging back the power arm of a miner and coiling his supple body, the boy threw the stick with all his might, three sharp claws of gnarly bone flashing out from his knuckles, as he did so.

The stick went soaring over the clearing, spinning into the growing darkness toward the dark wall of tall mountain pines. Mika turned and dashed away, kicking up a flush of snow behind her.

Retracting his claws, the boy self consciously, stuffed his fists into his coat pockets and watched the grey streak dash down the slope. Then, as the stick fell between the branches of the trees, there was a sudden rustling in the pines and a large form leapt out of the dark shadows, springing from one tree trunk to another, like a huge cat or monkey. With a final leap, it caught the stick midair in its mouth, before landing on the snow in front of Mika.

The wolf yelped and swerved away, with a defensive snarl and, from his place up the slope, the boy glared, his blue eyes hostel and disapprovingly irritated.

The form stood and took the stick from its mouth revealing itself to be a tall young man in a long fur coat. Snow was splashed over his tangled beard and ratty brown hair and he growled at Mika, barring yellowed fangs, before stomping up the clearing toward the boy.

"You fetch better then Mika, Victor," said the boy, once the man was closer.

Victor glared down at the thick stick in his hand, and then easily snapped it, before tossing it aside. "Where the hell have yeh been, Jimmy?" he snarled, "Smitty and Rose thought you'd froze in the privy or something. The Old-man made me do all yer chores."

Jimmy smirked then shrugged, "You know the cold can't bother me, Victor," he said lazily, rubbing Mika's ears, as she warily took cover behind his legs, still watching Victor like he'd eat her up. "I've been out here with Mika the whole time."

"Out here avoiding work," accused Victor, "I swear Jimmy yer more spoiled than that damn dog of yers. Just cuz Smitty favors yeh don't mean he'll let yeh get away with this. The whole fuc…"

"She's a wolf, Vic, not a dog," interrupted Jimmy and shook his thick black hair out of his face, "And I weren't 'voiding work. There's a wolf pack not far off. Been try'n to get Mika to go back to the wild, running with th…"

Victor spat in to the snow. _"He-Who-Runs-With-Wolves,_" he said in very bad Blackfoot, "So I've heard Jimmy. Everyone thinks yer 'maze'n! But you know what I think?" He stepped closer, leaning over the shorter boy, "Ah think it's just yer way'a find'n an outlet for the bloodlust. Yer way of disguising what yeh are."

"I don't lust fer blood, Victor," Jimmy snapped, stepping back, "I just like… like the exercise."

"Sure yeh do Jimmy." Victor rolled his grey eyes. "Perhaps yeh can hide the animal from Rose, Smitty and the rest, but yeh can't hide from me, Runt. Maybe yer not the one with yella finger claws an' fangs..." Victor stepped close and grabbed Jimmy's coat, nearly lifting the boy off his feet, "But ah've seen the rage burn in yer eyes, Jimmy. Same that burns in me. When yeh swing a pick-ax in the mine, when yer runn'n with yer damn wolves… You hate them all! You burn with rage fer no reason. Burn for blood."

"I don't!" snarled Jimmy, shoving away from the man, "I'm just trying to get Mika back to her family. I'm _not_ a damn animal! I _don't_ hate anyone! Just leave me alone fer once Victor. I don't need yeh to take care of me anymore. I don't want…"

Victor shoved Jimmy hard in the chest, causing him to stubble backwards, where he tripped over Mika. As he crashed into the snow, Jimmy's claws flashed out, his temper beginning to flare.

"Yeh'll _always_ need me Jimmy!" shouted Victor, "Ah'm yer brother and brothers look out for each other!"

"You're not my brother! Yer only my half brother!" snarled Jimmy getting up. He was met with a clawed smack in the face that sent him crashing back to the ground and splashed the snow with a spattering of red blood.

"Shut up! Just shut the hell up!" growled Victor furiously. He stepped forward to stand over his little brother, as the boy tuned to reveal a mangled face that steadily repaired itself, under Victor's eyes. "We're brothers and yer the one who killed our…"

"Gerrawh!" Before Victor could blink, Jimmy lunged up claws first and burred all six into his waist.

Roaring like a lion, Victor staged back his grey eyes burning with animalistic rage. Grabbing both of Jimmy's arms, he pulled the claws out of his stomach and flipped the boy up, over his head ten feet across the clearing, where Jimmy landed at the base of a tree stump.

"No bloodlust eh, Jimmy Boy?" panted Victor, putting a hand on his bleeding waist and stumbling toward his brother, "Wonder what sweet little Rose would do if she saw yeh now."

Snarling, Jimmy got up to face him, claws out, face stubborn as hell. Victor smirked slightly. The hot rage was plain to see in Jimmy's eyes and the boy's breath was fast and steamy, like an enraged bull's.

Stopping a few feet from him, Victor stood strait, crossing his arms the smirk still showing off his fangs. "Come on Runt. I'd love to see you try."

Jimmy grimaced then, to Victor's disappointment, relaxed. He retracted his claws and slowed his breathing, going from beast to civilized man in only a couple seconds. "I'm not go'na fight you Victor," he said almost solemnly.

Victor laughed, but his eyes were frowning. "Damn right you aren't. You know why? Cuz ah'd whoop yeh so bad you'd still be growing back yer balls come morning!"

Giving him a disgusted look, Jimmy turned his back on his brother. "No. I'm not go'na fight you, cuz, unlike you, I don't need to prove I'm better day in and day out. Yer so dense, Vic. I'm going fer a run." He whistled for Mika, who was hiding behind a snow bank and began jogging away, toward the forest.

With a snarl, Victor stepped after him. "Jimmy," he shouted, "Smitty wanted yeh back at the house!"

"Tell 'im yeh couldn't find me!" Jimmy called back, with out stopping. A few seconds later, he and his pet wolf had disappeared into dark forest.

* * *

**AN:** Please review. Tell me what you think of the first chapter and the characters introductions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabertooth, or anything really. I'm only a poor fanfiction writer.

Chapter Two: **Monster**

* * *

Viscously, Victor kicked the cabin door open, not looking up as light, warmth and the smell of food and people hit his face. It wasn't until he'd thrown off his coat and shook the melting snow from his hair and beard, that he lifted his head and saw Rose standing in the kitchen, staring at him with wide eyes, and then Smitty frowning at him from his place by the fire.

"What?" he demanded in a harsh tone. To look at them, one would think it'd been a bear that'd crashed into the house.

"Is there blood on yer shirt, Boy?" asked Smitty, squinting blindly at the red on Victor's waist.

Glanced down, Victor remembered that Jimmy had stabbed him earlier. "Killed a rabbit," he explained shortly, with a bit of a growl, then turned his eyes on Rose. She was dressed in a green tartan dress with black buttons down the front. It showed off her tall slim figure well and matched her eyes. Victor had to resist licking his lips.

As he watched, Rose lowered her eyes and began steadily kneading her bread dough again, "Did you find him?" she asked timidly, pushing a red lock from her face with a floury hand.

"No, didn't see a damn hide o hair of him," answered Victor. Keeping his eyes on Rose, he walked over, his bulk and height looking too big and brutal to be allowed inside. "Don't worry though. Jimmy can look after himself."

"But… I do. You know, he's…" Rose blushed, then turned and glanced at Victor's intense expression, before hurriedly reaching for a pan off the shelf. Obviously she was nervous and distracted and Victor wasn't surprised to see the tin pan slip from her fingers and roll with a clatter to his feet.

Leaning over, he picked it up for her. "Yer fingers must be cold," he said, "Maybe you should sit by the fire, with me while I eat. Here." He offered her back her pan.

Rose's green eyes looked at him then at his hand. Her mouth opened with silent horror and she backed against the table, unable to take her gaze from Victor's hand.

Looking down, he realized his claws were still nearly and inch long and stained with Jimmy's blood. Grimacing, he tossed the pan onto the table and was about to say something, when Old-man Smitty grabbed his shoulder from behind and pulled him roughly back from his daughter.

Smitty was a big man and still strong for being in his sixties. A coonskin cap covered his white hair and bushy eyebrows shaded squinting blue eyes. They flashed between Rose and Victor, before settling on the young man accusingly. "I don'a like yeh talking te Rose, Victor. It's not yer place. She may be the only young lady in the camp but…"

Suppressing a growl, Victor hid his bloody claws behind his back. "Just getting her pan fer her," he interrupted through tight lips.

"I saw the whole thing, I aint that blind!" snapped Smitty, in his gravely voice, "Not yet anyhow. And why didn'a yeh do what I told yeh and bring yer brother home?"

"Couldn't find him," said Victor, turning away to go to the fire.

"You face me when yeh talk to me, Boy," ordered Smitty, grabbing Victor's coat, "I took you and yer brother in from'a the cold and wild, when yer weren't but destitute beggars. Out o the goodness of me heart I've raised yeh both and fed yeh and… The least yeh own me is respect."

Victor resisted rolling his eyes at the familiar speech and turned back to the man. "Yes, Sir," he said.

Slightly gratified, Smitty crossed his arms and spoke more evenly. "Yeh couldn't find 'im, yeh say?" he asked dubiously.

"No Sir. I think he's out with them wolves again. Yeh've heard what the Backfeet have been saying 'bout him?"

Smitty sniffed, "Well, I don'a like it. He missed dinner and we'll need him in the morning fer work. Yeh should'a looked harder."

"It's not my fault he's a lazy slacker, trying to get out of work," snapped Victor, "Jimmy just thinks…"

"At least Jim is _normal_!" interrupted Smitty harshly, glaring from Victor's teeth to where his hands were still hidden behind his back.

Abruptly, Victor closed his lips over his fangs and glared silently at the old man.

"Yeh can eat yer dinner in the barn," said Smitty stiffly, before turning to go back to his chair by the fire.

Victor looked from Smitty to Rose, who was still watching him fearfully. Resisting the urge to tear her pretty face off, Victor angrily grabbed his portion of bread and meat from the table, noting sourly that it was quite a bit smaller than the portion waiting on Jimmy's plate. He then snatched up his coat and stomped out into the cold.

"Jimmy aint normal, Old Fool," he muttered, once the door was shut, "However goody-goody he may act, he's a damn monster just like me." Angrily, he slashed five gouges into the wooden logs of the house then turned, as the sound of howling echoed through the darkness. It was hunting calls and Victor could smell them chasing elk over the snowy slopes. In among the canine cries, he thought he heard a voice that rung slightly human.

Sighing heavily, Victor crunched over the snow toward the barn. "Jimmy, Jimmy," he chided, but then gave an almost fond smirk. "Tear 'im up, Little Brother."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Wolverine, Sabertooth or anything Fox or Marvel already own.

Chapter Three: **In the Morning**

* * *

Snow was falling silently down through the dim grey of a cloudy dawn. The scuffle of footprints and the stomped ice of trails had been hidden under a blanket of pure white. Noises were minimal or nonexistent and the whole scene felt muffled by the cold and the clouds. The only signs of warmth were the few thin trails of smoke beginning to rise from the camp cabins.

Then the hard stillness was broken, as the door of the overseer's cabin was shoved open and Jim Logan pushed out into the winter. His pet wolf dashed out in front of him, kicking up fresh snow and barking happily. The boy was shirtless and seemed amazingly unaffected by the freezing temperatures, as he waded through the knee-high snow. Making his way over to the pump with a bucket, he began the laborious chore of pumping water from the depths below up to the frozen surface.

Mika ran among the trees, sniffing random spots then stiffened, followed a trail briefly before looking intently out into the forest, twitching her ears curiously. Glancing over at her, Jim paused, sniffed the frosty air once and chuckled, as he went back to pumping water into his bucket.

"Them damn elk," he laughed, "Chaise 'im all night only to find out they'd come here, while we slept." He splashed the freezing water over his head and face, working mats of dry blood out of his hair and then trying to finger-comb it flat. "Come on Mika," he called, as he refilled the bucket, "We'll get 'im some other time."

Giving a whistle, he turned to take the water to the house and was met by Rose as she opened the door. "Oh Jim" she started, "Heaven's sake! What are yeh doing out here half naked and wet too? You trying to catch yer death?"

"I'm fine Rose. Was just getting the water for you." He gave her a coy smile and passed close by her into the house."

Rose blushed slightly and pulled her scarf off, as she turned back inside. "Thanks Jim. I was wandering where the bucket had…" she drifted shyly off and watch him through long lashed, as he put the water by the sink and then shoved a few more logs into the Franklin stove. "You need to put a shirt on Jim Logan," she chided after a moment, "What do yeh think my father would say if'n he saw us?"

Jim closed the stove and turned to her with a smirk, but before he could say anything, Smitty walked in from the adjacent bedroom, straitening his coon cap. "What's that? Saw what?" He blinked at them and Jim quickly grabbed his coat from the table and pulled it on before the half blind man could focus or get closer.

"I ripped my cloths again, Sir," he said, "Sorry."

"Jimmy," Smitty said, recognizing him and walking closer so he could see, "Yer home. Hrm…" He took hold of Jim's sleeve, examining the tattered buckskin. "Reckon Rose will have to sow it up," he muttered, "But it'd be best te get you a whole new coat. Yer growing so fast. Maybe yer brother can give yeh his fer now."

"Naw I don't want his coat. He needs it, 'sides I'm sure it smells."

Smitty chuckled, slapping Jim's firm shoulder approvingly, "Just don't want ya to freeze, Boy. It makes me nervous, you stay'in out so late." He sat stiffly down at the table and Rose exchange amused looks with Jim, behind his back, as she put bread in the stove.

"Where were yeh last night?" she asked "I, I was worried." She blushed and nearly dropped a mug, as she reached for the dishes on the shelf.

"Oh, just hunting, didn't have much luck though," answered Jim and sat down at the table with Smitty. "Got back 'bout the time it began snow'n."

"Son, I've been meaning to talk te yeh fer some time…" started Smitty, when, with a draft of cold air, Victor came in, his arms full of firewood.

"Victor," greeted Jim cheerfully, "There you are. Yeh weren't in bed when I got home last night. Where were yeh?"

Kicking the door shut, Victor turned and glared at the group gathered cozily at the table near the stove. He was obviously in a bad mood again.

"Slept in the barn," he growled grumpily then stomped to the other side of house to restart the coals burning in the ashes of the fireplace.

"You milk Bonnie, boy?" asked Smitty, frowning over at the older brother's back.

"No. That's Jimmy's job. Yeh know that damn cow can't stand the sight o me."

"Yeh milked her last night," pointed out Smitty.

"And got kicked repeatedly in the gut!" snarled Victor, throwing a log viscously into the ashes and sparks. "I aint do'n Jimmy's chores no more."

Smitty glared but Jim got up. "I'll go milk the damn cow," he said, stretching slightly and shaking drops of water from his damp hair.

"Breakfast will be ready soon," Rose informed him, as she set plates on the table.

"Ah'll be sure not te miss it," assured Jim and the two of them exchanged fond smiles, before Jim turned and to leave with Mika.

As he pushed the door open he met Victor's intense glare, "What?" he asked in annoyance, then rolled his eyes and left.

As the door shut, Victor's glair slid back to Rose, a mixture of accusation and jealousy in his grey eyes. She paled under it and dropped her gaze, causing her red braid to fall charmingly into her face.

At the table, Smitty was still frowning, as he stuffed tobacco into his pipe. "That the last o the wood, you just brung in, Boy?" he asked Victor.

Having finished starting the fire, Victor stood up, dusting off his hands. "No," he growled, "There's plenty more by the…"

"Well, I want yeh te chop some more," interrupted Smitty curtly, "Go on." He nodded toward the door and put his pipe in his mouth.

Giving a rumbling growl, Victor glared a moment, before he obediently stomped out the door. It slammed behind him, causing two wooden bowls to tumble off a shelf onto the floor.

Smitty puffed his pipe a moment, frowning at them. "That boy's trouble," he said at last, "Ah'd known it. Known it all'along. Don't trust 'im." He shook his white head then glanced at his daughter.

Rose silently took eggs down, her face pensive and her lips tight.

"If'n he ever do something to you o' say somt'n… you let me know, Girl, right o way and I'll 'ave him thrown out'o camp,"

"If Victor left, Jim would leave to," said Rose softly.

"Hrm…" Smitty frowned and puffed broodingly on his pipe. "Don't know… I reckon he might have a reason o more to stay." He looked at Rose from the corner of his eyes, "Jim aint like his brother. No he aint."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sabertooth, Wolverine, nor do I own Canada or anything anybody else already owns.

**Warning:** Strong language in this chapter.

Chapter Four: **Trouble in the Mine**

* * *

"Come on Runt. That ain't even narrow," snapped Victor, as he frowned into the dark jumbles of rocks and broken lumber that was blocking the back of the mine. It'd collapsed during the night and they'd have to spend most the day fixing it.

"Yeah?" came Jim's cross voice, "Why don't you crawl through then? I'm telling you Vic, my shoulders are too broad to get all the way."

Behind Victor, Buck Miller chuckled and lifted the lantern a little higher. "The kid ain't so small no more is he?"

Victor frowned at Buck then looked back at his brother. "Jimmy, try go'n feet first," he suggested.

There was a scuffling in the dark as Jim turned around then he slid completely out of view. A splash of shallow water was followed by a disgusted shiver, "Blegh! Lot of cold water gathered back here, but Smitty was right. It only collapsed in that one spot, opens up again. Won't take long to repair"

"You need the lantern, Kid?" called Buck.

"I can see. Pass me some more lumber and I'll rebuild some supports this side, 'fore we start clearing this way."

"Yeh must have the eyes of an owl," muttered Buck then handed Victor the lantern, before turning to go back over to the shaft and get some wood.

"Jimmy?" called Victor, "Careful what yeh move 'round back there."

"Stop worrying 'bout me, Vic," came Jim's slightly irritated response.

It wasn't long before Buck came back and the ceiling on either side of the cave-in had been supported. Then they could start clearing out the rubble. Victor and Jim worked in the back, loading the dirt and stone into the pony carts, while Buck and the others worked at the shaft, heaving the rubble up out of the mine in buckets.

It was a small mine, one of many dotted over British Columbia, supplying coal to the Hudson Bay Company and Vancouver settlements. Low ceilings meant that most the men had to hunch and they were constantly plagued by water, ice and over-all dampness.

The cold weather and closed in space often discouraged the men from conversing much while they worked. However, this morning Victor seemed especially intent on a brooding, deliberate silence that was even moodier than usual. It was beginning to get on Jim's nerves.

Pushing his hair out of his face with a dirty hand Jim frowned at his brother as they worked, "What's wrong with you, Victor?" he finally asked, "You ain't hardly done noth'n but glare and growl all morning."

Victor's glare intensified and he slammed his shovel under the debris with more force than was necessary, "What's with you an Rose, Jimmy?" he finally growled.

Jim's face darkened. "What business is that o yers?"

"I saw yeh look'n at 'er and she blushes half the time yeh walk in the room," accused Victor.

Jim smirked and looked down at his shovel, "So what?" he asked coyly, "Ain't a crime fer a man te like a girl."

Victor stopped in his work and leaned close to Jim, poking a long-nailed finger at his chest. "You ain't a man, James. Yer a dumb kid and more than that, yer not like normal men and never can be," he said in a firm voice, "It'll never work out, believe me. We're not like them."

Jim glared and shoved Victor's hand away. "Maybe yer not Victor, but I've been getting along just fine. Yer just jealous is all."

Victor's eyes burned and he growled deeply, making the cart pony nervous where it stood. "You just stay away from Rose an stop pretending te be something yer not." He warned dangerously, "I know you, Jimmy."

"Do you?" snapped Jim, flicking his hair from his eyes and giving Victor a look of stubborn arrogance, "You ain't my Pa, Victor and I ain't like you. In fact, I'm getting sick o…"

"We're brothers Jimmy!" interrupted Victor angrily, "We belong together. We're the only ones of our kind. Yer not one of them, and yer not one o yer damn wolves. Yer with me."

Jim threw his shovel down and advanced aggressively, glaring at Victor. "Oh yeah? Maybe I don't want to be with you. Maybe I want to live my own life and not become a brooding freak like you are. Maybe you should just leave me the fuck alone, Victor!"

There was a stony silence between them and Jim was a little sobered, when he realized there was some stunned hurt and confusion mingled with the growing rage twisting his brother's face.

He was relieved when he heard Buck Miller come up. "You alright Jim?" Buck asked, looking nervously between the brothers and giving Victor's seething stillness a slightly suspicious and very nervous look. "What's going on?"

"Noth'n," growled Jim, picking up his shovel again, "Almost got the cart full."

Suddenly there was a loud clatter as Victor viciously threw his shovel against the wall, "You'll be sorry, Jim Logan!" he shouted, breaking out of his tense silence like a hurricane. Backing up, he pointing his clawed finger at his brother, "I'll fucking show you!" He turned with a billow of his fur coat and leapt through the mine like a panther, knocking Jud Norris aside, before jumping up, out of the shaft, in two agile springs.

As he disappeared, Jim took a hesitant step after him, looking a bit regretful, then glanced at where Buck was staring open mouthed with surprised. "What the hell happened between you two?" Buck asked.

Jim kicked a stone, "Said some things I shoudn'a," he muttered, "I didn't really mean it. It just Victor's been such a pain in the ass lately." He sighed and shoveled some dirt into the cart. "He just needs some time to cool off then I'll talk to him and set his dense head on straight."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sabertooth, Wolverine or anything Fox or Marvel already own. I'm not trying to make a profit. I only want reviews and time to play with my favorite Mutants.

**AN: **Warning, this chapter has some gruesome images.

***

Chapter Five: **Malice and Vengeance **

A high panicky yelping was suddenly cut off by a growl of some sort. Both sounds were chillingly emotional, yet so inhuman that Rose caught her breath and froze when she heard them. As the yelps, roars and scuffling continued, her face turning slightly pale and the bowl of buttermilk she'd been holding slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

Grabbing up her thick skirts and petticoats in one hand, Rose ignored the mess and hurried out toward the barn, where she was sure the noises were coming from. She was half way there when all went deathly silent. A cold wind whipped a cloud of snow up into the air and blew Rose's red curls out of her face. Pine trees whined and the distance sounds of the men working at the mine came down to her, but there was nothing from behind the barn.

She paused by the well, cautious and unsure. Rubbing her hands, she looked hesitantly up the mountain, where all the men were working then down at the mass of footsteps both man and beast around the barn. Then an indistinct yet human mutter was heard and Rose took in a relieved breath, and pushed her hair out of her face, before stepping forward again. "Hello?" she called.

Hardly had her small feet crunched through the snow, when Victor came out from behind the barn, face brooding and down turned, claws, hands and sleeves covered in fresh crimson blood.

"Oh God," gasped Rose, stopping in her tracks, "Vi-Victor… what…?"

Victor's head snapped up an animalistic snarl twisting his features, claws extending farther. At the sight of Rose's shocked face, however he reluctantly relaxed. Visibly forcing down rage, Victor lowered his hands. "What are you doing here, Rose?" he growled.

"I, I, I heard a noise," stammered Rose, not taking her horrified eyes of the blood still dripping from his coat. "What...? Was it a bear? I thought I heard…"

Eyeing her flustered fear, Victor let out a scoffing grunt and crossed his arms. Openly he looked her up and down, eyes glowing with a beastly light. "Yeh heard something, eh?" he asked spitefully, "Why don't'cha just go check it out then?"

She opened her mouth, but could only back away from him speechlessly.

In an aggressively flare, Victor stepped forward so that he was standing over her less than two inches from her body. "Hold up there Rose!" He grabbed her wrist as she tried to stubble fearfully away and glared angrily at the look of horror and repulsion on her pretty face. "Yeh hate me don't you?" he growled, letting his claws extend and press against her white wrist, "Think I'm a monster!"

"N- No! I- I don't. I…" He threw her roughly down into the snow, before she could finish her frightened lie.

"Go look!" he shouted, pointing a blood red claw back behind the barn, "Go look and see what monsters are capable of and be sure to tell James for me." With that he turned fiercely and bounded over the snow on all fours, like a fleeing tiger. In one leap he jumped to the roof of Jud Norris's cabin then up into the branches of the pine trees and out of sight.

Shivering, Rose got up rubbing the red marks on her wrist, starring fearfully after Victor. Then, hesitantly, she turned toward the back of the barn.

Jim was halfway back to the cabins, when he heard Rose's scream pierce up through the mountains and ring on the ice and rocks. He froze, then as another scream echoed through the air, he rushed on with a surge of fear and animalistic adrenalin. Breaking off the trail at a full run, he cut though the woods, straight down the mountain, using his strong arms to help him leap over boulders and underbrush. Heat filled his eyes and the skin on the top of his hands wriggled weirdly.

"Rose!?" he shouted, barreling out in the clearing of cabins and outhouses. Pausing briefly he sniffed the air, taking in the hot, bitter smell of fresh blood. "Rose!"

He raced toward the barn and was met by Rose running to meet him. "Jim!" she cried, grabbing him and burring her face in his shoulder, "It's horrible! Oh Jim I can't look!"

Panting, Jim put his arms around her, his face filling with relief and confusion. "I smelled blood… You're not hurt? We head noises up at the camp…"

"Jim I'm sorry. ... You won't… Victor," she sobbed.

Listening more to his sharp senses, than Rose's scattered sobs, Jim warily pulled out of her arms and took the few steps he needed to see around the back of the barn.

Hanging upside down by a rope from the back eves, swaying slightly in the wind, was the mangled bloody corpse of Mika the wolf. Half skinned, her thick fur coat had been ripped from her red sinus to hang dripping and blood from her body. Deep slashes from five claws had torn open her stomach spilling guts onto on the red snow and he face was unrecognizable under the claw marks and cuts.

The smell was over powering to Jim's acute senses and he almost vomited up his lunch. He seen plenty of dead animals, before but Mika had been tortured and mangled without purpose or direction. His pet, his friend killed out of pure malice!

Unable to take his eyes off the sight, Jim stumbled forward to his knees and shakily reached a hand toward the hanging wolf, his mouth open in speechless horror.

"Jim," came Rose's choked and sympathetic voice, "I don't know what must have come over him. I can't believe…"

"Him?!" snarled Jim turning viscously and clinching his fist. "You mean Victor? He…" Jim sniffed. "He did this!" He lunged up and there was the sudden appearance of three sharp bone claws from each of Jim's hand.

"Jim?" gasped Rose, staring at the inhuman claws then at the beastly rage in her friend's face in pure shock.

"I'm going to kill him!" growled Jim, making to shove obliviously past her.

"No Jim!" cried Rose grabbing his arm, "Don't! I don't want you…"

"He's NOT getting away with this!" shouted Jim furiously and shoved her off of him so forcibly she fell back into the snow again. Then, without a backward look, Jim ran over the snow in Victor's tracks, driven by a hot, one minded rage.

***

**AN: **Finally got this updated sorry for the wait and sorry to all you animal lovers out there. I hope you will all review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Wolverine, Sabertooth, Canada or anything Fox and/or Marvel already own. I'm not making any money here. I just like reviews.

**Warning:** This chapter has intense and bloody violence.

***

Chapter Six: **Animals**

Victor broodingly looked down the pine branch he was sitting on and idly scratched figures into its bark. If he'd been able to write he might have written his name, but he could only draw a picture: a face with fangs and a smile.

He hadn't run far into the forest just to the nearest clearing, where he knew he and Jimmy would have room to fight. Now, he was waiting in the branches of an old pine tree. Snow laden branches surrounded him like friends and the sweet smell of resin filled his nostrils. There was something about a tree that offered isolation and comfort like nothing else.

A grey jay hopped from one branch to a higher one in a near by tree, and Victor's eyes turned on it, with the silent intensity of a cat. For several long minuets Victor sat perfectly still in his tree and watched the bird, as it playfully bounced through the branches and sang its "Whee ah!" call.

Suddenly the stillness was broken by the sound of reckless running and shouts. The jay fled from the tree and Victor sniffed once, a steely look coming to his grey eyes.

"Victor!" shouted Jim, he could smell that his brother was close and the lack of tracks in the snow told him Victor was probably in a tree somewhere. "VICTOR!" he yelled looking up and searching the thick pine branches with a burning gaze.

There was a rustling in a tree nearby and Jim turned to see Victor jump agilely to the ground, his eyes calmly on him.

Snarling James extended his claws and tensed, but didn't leap right away. "Why?" he demanded harshly. "Why did you kill her?"

Victor shrugged apathetically. "Upset yeh to see yer little puppy dog had been killed?" he asked condescendingly.

With a wolf-like roar, Jim lunged forward, barreling into his big brother claws first. "I hate you!" he screamed, as Victor was slammed into the tree trunk. "God damn you Victor!"

Blindly Jim stabbed and slashed. The tearing of flesh and smell of blood giving him an even higher surge of adrenalin and fueling his rage, until he felt almost intoxicated and ecstatic in it. He forgot everything else.

Victor snarled and roared, as he was pinned against the tree. His face turned red and twisted with anger. Pain filled him and sent a burning rush of blood and adrenalin to his head, but he'd been caught off guard by the strength of Jim's charge and it was a moment before he was able to think clearly enough to grab both Jim's wrists in his hands.

With a mighty growl, Victor lifted Jim's hands out of his gut and swung the kid off his feet and down the hill into a tree seven feet away. There was a crack and a pile of snow and a dead branch fell from the pine onto the boy.

Staggering, Victor fell to his knees clutching his stomach, but unable to cover the mass of bloody stabs and slashed across his whole front. "Jimmy!" he growled, as he saw Jim getting up for another charge. "Don't you…"

There was another frenzy of growls and roars as the brothers clashed again. Jim leap onto Victor's shoulder attacking his back and Victor swung around flailing his claws and trying to rip the smaller teenager off him. They fell and rolled over the snow leaving dark red patterns of blood behind them.

Finally Victor managed to buck Jim off of him and pin his brother to the ground. Without any human expression of recognition or strategy, he slashed beat with claws and fist, growling and grunting, as every blow hit home. Blood flew up spattering Victor's face and furious screams and snarls filled the usually silent forest.

Then, in the midst of this blind fury, all three of Jim's right claws suddenly stabbed through Victor's left arm and rip his bicep right off the bone in tatters. Pulling back with a roar of pain, Victor left an opening for Jim to lunge up and stab him between the ribs right through the lung.

Their faces were only a few inches from each other. Jim's was covered in blood and fading bruises, but he showed no sign of pain or exhaustion, only animalistic rage, as he growled through clinched teeth. Victor roared back, yellow fangs wide, his face just as inhuman as Jim's. Neither of them heard or smelled someone else run into the clearing.

"Jim!" screamed Rose, clutching a tree truck and staring in horror at the sight before her.

Blood and tattered bits of clothing covered the snow and both of the Logan brothers were roaring and fighting like two wild animals, horribly inhuman and mindless.

With a crash, Victor threw Jim down into a bush by his hair. Though stronger, the older boy seemed to have gotten the worst so far, because rather than follow up with an attack, he staggered, breathing with difficulty and bleeding from several injuries. His left arm was hanging uselessly, limp and red with blood.

Gasping, Rose put a hand to her mouth then screamed, as she saw Jim charge forward to attack again, "James NO! Don't! You'll kill him James! Jim!" she yelled frantic and confused.

Neither brother seemed to hear her and Victor roared, as he fell under Jim's inexhaustible attack. Both set of claws flew, as they kicked and flailed in the snow, Jim getting the advantage.

"Jim STOP!" Screamed Rose and ran forward to grab his shoulder, frantic to be heard and make Jim be normal again. Make him be _human_ again. "Stop! Jim Please Stop!"

As she yelled there was the sound of several rushing footsteps behind her. "Rose get back!" came Smitty's voice, as he and several other miners armed with muskets ran toward the clearing.

Focused solely on one thing, Jim was only aware of Victor under him, the smell of blood and the fact that he was about to win. When suddenly there was something restraining him, pulling him back from his victim and his victory, he rounded with blind viciousness, caws first and teeth gritted in an angry growl.

There was the satisfying sensation bone puncturing skin and the solid pressure of a successful stab through the upper stomach and up under the ribs.

It was the high pitch of the scream that caused Jim to hesitate, in his blind, hormonal fury. Blinking, he suddenly realized whose blood it was streaming down his hand. A startled look of confusion then horror crossed his face and Rose looked back at him with shock and breathless panic.

"Rose!?" gasped Jim. He retracted his claws and Rose fell limply down to the snow. Speechless, Jim could only look down at the blood blossoming into her dress and on to the snow, with paralyzed horror.

***

**AN:** I know this was a little more out of control and blind than Logan usually is once he's older, but he's a teenager here. His hormones are raging and he had less experience and control over his powers and instincts.

Also, I know the beginning of this was very much like the scene in the movie where Logan and Victor fight in Canada. I would have liked to be more original, but it's the way it came to me. I guess you can know an experiment is going right when you get the same results at the original, right? Besides, by the way Victor acted in the movie, I got the feeling by that they'd been through plenty of similar situations.

Anyway, sorry about the cliffy. Please leave reviews. They really help to motivate me to write the next chapters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Wolverine, Sabertooth, or anything Fox and/or Marvel already own.

**Warning:** Strong language in this chapter.

***

**Chapter Seven:** Running Again

Smitty stared at his daughter, fallen and lifeless in the snow, then at Jim Logan, smeared in blood, hellish inhuman claws dripping with Rose's blood. Everything and everyone in the clearing seemed unnaturally slow and silent with shock.

"Demons! Demons!" yelled Smitty, rage and hate filling him, as he raised his musket.

"No!" cried Jim, "I didn't…"

A bang and flash of spark and powder filled the clearing. Violently, Jim was thrown to the ground by the force of a musket ball in the chest. Blood flew and Jim's black hair framed his young, frightened face, as he fell to the snow beside Rose and was still.

"NO!" Victor jumped to his feet and roared, looking angrier than a mother grizzly. The men raised guns in confusion and fear, shouting to Smitty or Victor, unsure what to do.

Still yelling an incomprehensible string of curses, Smitty's old hands flew about the task of reloading. "Devils! I'll kill yeh! God-damned, fucking monsters!"

Victor leapt forward like a lion. Grabbing the musket, he wrenched it out of Smitty's hand and swung the heavy weapon like a club. "Fuck you, Old Man! You…" He roared and threw the gun away, as Smitty was knocked down and rolled several feet across the clearing.

There was another bang and Victor spun and fell, as a bullet ripped through his shoulder. Then, without pausing, he leapt up again and lunged toward Jud Norris who was holding a smoking musket.

"God damn..!" Jud lifted his gun to block and Victor slammed into him, like a pouncing panther. Both men tumbled to the snow, Victor trying to wrench the weapon out of the way and beat his prey down with his claws and fists.

Jud did his best to hold him off, hardly able to believe this was the same boy he'd worked beside in Smitty's mine for the last four years. "Do something! Damn it!" he screamed and the other men rushed forward.

The butts of rifles came down on Victor's head and back and, with the help of his friends, Jud threw Victor off and down on his back. Buck Miller aimed his shotgun into Victor's face and the others stood round, panting and ready to beat him down if he moved.

Bloody and half conscious, Victor barred his teeth but stayed still, as he looked up Buck's gun barrel. All around him the men looked down, with a mixture of shock, horror, disbelief and hesitation. Victor could easily hear each and every one of their hearts pounding in their chests and he clenched his fists, his claws digging into his palms.

"Kill him Buck! Damn it! Blow his head off!" Smitty was struggling back to his feet, coonskin cap in hand and a bloody gash on his head. "Now, boy! He's a monster!"

Nodding, Buck took a breath, but before he pulled the trigged there was a shout.

"No!" A body slammed against Buck, crashing through the group of men and sending him tumbling to the ground.

"What the!" Buck struggled, as he and Jim Logan rolled across the clearing, fighting for the gun in his hands.

With the shotgun gone, Victor jumped up and knocked the surprised miners aside with a few heavy punches. "Jimmy!" he shouted, turning.

Jim managed to wrench Buck's shotgun from him and threw it into the forest. Rolling away from Buck, Jim turned toward his brother. "Victor!" he yelled getting up and hurrying forward.

Once Jim was at his side, Victor turned, ready to do what he had to, to fight their way out of this. "It's time to run again, Little Brother!" he shouted and knocked Jud aside again, before leading the way in to the forest with a cat-like bound.

Jim followed, vaulting over a fallen log and landing on all fours, before running down the mountain with Victor. Behind them, he heard Smitty yelling a curse and there was the sound of a musket. But the old man must have missed, because Victor and James Logan didn't even trip, as they left the mining camp behind.

***

**AN:** Sorry this is so short. This scene went faster than I expected it to. Anyway to make up for the short chapter, I'll try to post the next chapter quickly. I love weekends, lots of time to write.

Please Review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Wolverine, Sabertooth or Canada. I'm not making a profit, just having some innocent (that is mostly innocent) fun.

**AN:** I told y'all I'd update quickly! Two chapters in one day, Whoot! :P

***

Chapter Eight: **Sons of the Wilderness**

High above the Canadian Rockies the North Star shone in the mist of a stellar bedecked sky. There is nothing quite like starry winter night, in a place untainted by the light, pollution and presence of civilization. The silver light of the Milky Way, reflecting off the snowy mountaintops was serene and surreal. The wind in the pine trees was cold and confident; the darkness solid and sure of itself.

In this place and time, Wilderness was supreme; queen of a land peopled by animals and native tribes who bowed before her, fearful of the harsh weather, catastrophes and sprits she was capable of sending upon them. In a world that was as old and lonely as the mountains, peace was impersonal; silence was cold, and death a matter of course.

Under the dark shadow of the pines forests, Victor and James ran like animals over the snowy forest floor. Immune to the elements and strong as the world they were in, they didn't tire or pause.

Victor was in front and his grey eyes gleamed whenever the starlight touched them. He was home and every bound he made seemed to ring with a freedom newly found. Behind Victor, James' eyes were grimmer, clouding a face dark in frowns and bitterness. Every step was heavy, every leap determined and self-punishing.

The crescent moon rose and fell and the boys crossed peeks and valleys, never faltering in either speed or direction. Finally, after running for more than twelve hours, Victor splashed through a stream and stopped in the middle of its swirl of ice and crystal water.

James stopped on the edge and they looked at each other. A wind blew their tangled hair and tattered clothes, until James looked down and knelt for a drink. For a moment longer Victor stood in the stream then walked over to a boulder and sat down.

The rush of water was loud but didn't lessen the silence between them. Finally Victor spoke up. "You've never been shot before," he commented, "I wasn't… I thought you might have kicked in the bucket back there."

Jim was still glaring down at his dark reflection in the stream. "Pity I didn't," he growled and Victor frowned. "What the hell are you talking 'bout, Jimmy?" he growled back threateningly.

"I killed her!" yelled James, looking up with fierce blue eyes. "What the hell!? How could I do that? I…"

"Listen Jimmy," interrupted Victor sternly, going to kneel beside his brother. "I told you we weren't like them. There's more to us. I'd seen it the night you killed our Pa. I've seen the strength growing in you just like it grew in me." He put a hand on James' shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Jim." He said firmly. "She got in the way. Got between us. _Nothing _can come between us Jimmy, _nothing_. We're brothers and the only ones of our kind."

Jim frowned and knocked Victors hand aside. "You talk like we aren't human," he growled.

"We aren't, James. Haven't you seen the look on their faces when they see our claws, our strength?" spat Victor. "They say we're monsters. So be it! Let them rot! Out here we're free, who needs them!"

Jim looked down, away from Victor's face, at the water. Slowly he extended the claws in his left hand and let the dark stream run over them, feeling the chill creep up through his bones. "I just thought…" he began sadly then sighed, "You're right Victor. I wasn't ever one of them. I was living a lie and now she's dead." A painful expression crossed his face, as he tried to hold back tears. "I don't want to hurt some one again, Victor," he cried then buried his face in his brother's fur coat.

Hesitantly, Victor put an arm around Jim's shoulder. "Look," he said with some confusion and an edge of frustration, "Maybe Rose wasn't…"

"She was dead," sobbed Jim, "I touched her cheek, after I woke up, while you were fighting the others. Her eyes… they were so empty! It was my fault!"

"It wasn't your fault James! It was their fault. It was all their fault. Look, Jimmy, you need to stop this! We need to… I…" Victor looked around in confusion and saw a cave behind a fallen tree. "Come on. We should rest Jim," he added on a gentler tone, "I'll look out for you. You don't need anyone else. We belong out here, free from it all."

Standing up, Victor easily swept Jim up in his arms and carried his brother into the cave.

Exhausted physically and emotionally Jim fell asleep almost immediately.

Meanwhile, Victor sat outside the cave, idly using his claws to sharpen the end of sticks and thinking about everything that had happened. They _were_ monsters, both of them. They had no father, no mother, nothing to do with humans at all. They were sons of this wilderness around them, cruel and untamed.

His claws extended, carving off the end of a pine branch and Victor smiled, his yellow fangs showing the dim light of dawn. He liked it this way.

**THE END**

***

**AN:** Another short chapter to finish it off. Hope y'all liked it.

I'm changing the title of the story to "Sons of the Wilderness: 1849" and will turn this into a series. I have vague plans for about ten stories, covering Logan and Victor's life throughout the 19th century. I doubt I'll ever finish them all, but you know, reviews really do have amazing motivating powers. :D

For the next story, I'm trying to decide weather I should do a sequel and pick them up as wildmen living in the wilderness, or a prequel and write them at Howlett Manner and surround the scene in the movie, where James gets his powers. I'd love to hear y'all opinions. Prequel or sequel?

Anyway, thanks so much for reading and for all your reviews and encouragement. I especially want to thank **Nagaku Tsuzuku Yami** and **Lucky's Girl**. They've both reviewed almost every chapter and have given gave me lots of encouragement. Both of them are also working on stories about Wolverine and Sabertooth and I recommend that you check them out.

_Babysitting Wolverine and Sabretooth_, by Nagaku Tsuzuku Yami

_Lost Brothers_, by Lucky's Girl

~Star


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